


invisible

by blahthelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Evil, Fire, M/M, don't really have any tags but, flame, power, unknown - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahthelarry/pseuds/blahthelarry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry knows monsters exist. He's lived with them, he's seen them, and he's haunted by them. They're just not the type that live under his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	invisible

The sun shone through the brown leaves hanging above Harry’s head. Whispers of wind tickled his neck, sending chills down his spine. Through the brush, just beyond a shack that had endured years of abuse from rain and snow, a figure crouched beside a fallen tree. Harry kept a strong hold onto the handles of his bike, fighting back the urge to just run towards the unknown person.

 

It was then that he thought back to when he was little, when his mother told him of the story about a creature that lurked in the forest, preying on small children. But he didn’t believe it then and he didn’t believe it now. He was seventeen and seventeen-year-olds didn’t believe in silly old bed time stories.

 

The past two years though, he started to think monsters could exist, but not in the mythical sense. Dark beasts that would leech off of his fear and his dreams, those were the kinds of monsters that existed in the real world. Ones that came in the form of people and rumors. They were part of the reason he was here, riding out deep into the woods, even though the sun was setting.

 

Of course he should be heading back home. His mom would be having a cow about now, but he couldn’t turn away, couldn’t compel himself to move away from his new hiding place. In his head, he could only think of the endless possibilities that could be lurking only a few feet away from him. From where he stood, he couldn’t make out a face or a clue as to who, or what, was here with him. Some how the tables had turned and _he_ felt like the monster hiding in the shadows, waiting to feast upon the flesh of the innocent. It was true; he could be the monster.

 

A murmur came from the figure, startling Harry from his thoughts, his knee jerking and knocking into the frame of his bike. He winced, hoping the small yelp he had made hadn’t reached the ears of the person. His teeth bit into his bottom lip as he waited fro movement, just anything that would signal for his immediate departure. But nothing came.

 

He sighed with relief. However, it didn’t last long.

 

The figure moved again, sticking to the dark. The rays of sunlight were fading more at each passing second, the moon taking the sun’s place. There was then a sharp sound of something scraping against sandpaper or wood. Harry’s heart beat pounded in his chest, figuring that it was coming for him as the figure was moving and not _stopping._

 

But then there was light in the darkness. A soft glow illuminated the figure’s features. It was then that Harry could make out just a hint of the face: a light stubble and bed hair. Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. He should have figured who it was the second he crossed the rial road tracks on the other side, but it just hadn’t occurred to him. The figure took the now lit match and tossed it onto the shack doused in gasoline.

 

He knew who it was. They were a monster different than any Harry had encountered.

 

<><><> 

 

That night, he couldn’t sleep. He tossed and he turned, but he couldn’t get _their_ face out of his head. That smile and those eyes that glowed as they watched the blazing flames of the fire. Deep in his chest, he swore he could feel the heat of that same fire. It grew, making sweat form at his neck and chest. The flames grew higher, consuming him and his thoughts until—it stopped.

 

A whoosh o cold air swooped over his skin, leaving trails of goose bumps along his arms and legs. Even though the intense heat was gone, he still couldn’t fall asleep. He tossed and turned, stood up and walked around his room, stopping to gaze at the moon, but nothing helped. When morning came, he threw up his breakfast and could barely stand.

 

That day he didn’t go to school

 

<><><> 

 

Curiosity killed the cat. Harry wasn’t a victim and he would never let himself become one. But sooner rather than later he came down with a bad case of curiosity. His mind drifted back to the night he had sneaked out to the forest, the same day he became sick, but he wasn’t going to link the two together.

 

It wasn’t until the next day, the day he went back to school, that he actually let himself think about it. The burning sensation he felt wasn’t heart burn or no measly heat sweats. This was serious. He just didn’t know how serious or really, he didn’t want to find out how serious the situation was.

 

He was sitting in the middle of his history class, learning about the Roman Empire and ignoring the crude jokes his friend Niall made even though everyone kept telling him they were crap. It wasn’t _not_ normal for him to keep to himself, but he guessed his thoughts were pulling him under further than he had anticipated.

 

“What’s up with you?” Niall whispered, kicking Harry’s desk. “You look like someone shot your dog and you’re planning revenge.”

 

The analogy would have usually put a smile on his face. This time though, he didn’t find it was funny at all. As the teacher droned on about civilization, Harry contemplated what he should do. And whether he should answer Niall’s eager question.

 

For a moment he was going to push it all aside, forget what he saw and what he felt. He couldn’t get those eyes out of his head though.

 

“I’m fine,” he finally said after a great silence. “Was just sick.”

 

Niall looked doubtful, but he didn’t push it. It was one of the characteristics Harry enjoyed about him. He knew when to drop things.

 

Now if only he could do that.

 

It wasn’t an easy goal for him. Rationality, at the moment, wasn’t on his side of things. What he saw out in the forest that day haunted him like a bad dream. It feasted on his brain, whispering things to him he wished would not be said. The solution to his growing problem was unapproachable, even if he did consider taking that route. He tried to ignore everything, but as the day went on, the fire in his chest was lit again.

 

The first time it hit him was around lunch time. It was the middle of fifth hour and they were reading _Tuesdays With Morrie._ Then, right at the part where Morrie starts talking about life and how people don’t live in happiness like they should, Harry feels like he’s being stabbed straight through his heart. If he hadn’t of bitten down hard on his lip, so hard that it drawled blood, he would have released a blood curdling scream. Blinking away tears, he bawled his hands into fists, holding back so much pain. He didn’t know if he would be able to make it the last twenty minutes of class. No one had noticed anything, like it wasn’t obvious he was dying right in front of them.

 

All he knew was that he couldn’t breathe. He could just imagine what his insides must look like, melting away as the flames rippled like water inside of him. It was almost poetic; if he was going to die then going in style, even if just poetically, seemed better than croaking on the toilet or in some other embarrassing situation. And maybe it was a little ironic that he would be thinking about death while his fellow classmates read about death and what it means and what it meant to Morrie. But Harry didn’t give a shit because all he could think about was killing the one who was behind his misery.

 

Then, when he couldn’t take no more, it stopped. The other night flashed before his eyes and he swore he would not dance around anymore. He was _not_ going to be played a fool because he wasn’t scared and he wasn’t a victim!

 

If confronting the monster was what he had to do, then so be it. He wasn’t going to hide in fear or run away. There was nothing in this world that could scare him.

 

It’s what he wanted to believe anyway. The hard thing about confronting his monster was that he was hard to find. Well, just hard to catch up to if you didn’t want to get beaten up by his two little guard buddies, if you could describe two hulking men as “little”. If he wanted to understand what was happening to him, why he couldn’t get _him_ out of his head, and find out what _he_ had been doing burning down a shack in the middle of the forest he would have to talk to him. Maybe that was what was pulling Harry towards him: fear.

 

It coursed through his veins each time his face would pop up in his head, every time he felt the fire burning in his chest, and every second he spent thinking about what he was going to do. His actions should not surprise him. Ever since he decided to ride his bike out on that particular day, his life had been flipped upside down. The world wasn’t moving and nothing seemed the same. His classmates weren’t just students anymore, they were prey for the bigger beasts that were hunting after them. The strangers he passed on the street weren’t just strangers; they were undiscovered monsters walking around in broad delight, waiting for their time to come forward. It made him sick with himself for wanting such a feeling to last. Was he some kind of freak? Why was he longing for a feeling that others despised having?

 

He didn’t understand any of his thoughts. All he knew was that he wanted to see _him._

 

The last hour of the day sluggishly crawled on, pushing every nerve in Harry’s body. His mind was screaming at the clock. _Come on! Hurry up you darn wanker!_

Some kid, he thinks his name is Nick, is talking trash about the basketball team and he’s trying not to pay attention, but it’s hard not to when the kid is practically yelling it across the room.

 

“I mean they’re complete shit. Bobby wouldn’t pass the ball; Jeremiah can’t throw worth shit; the team just needs to be trashed.” He was speaking to a kid sitting across from him, one that was wearing jeans, dirty converse, and just didn’t seem to give a shit about what he was spewing. The Nick kid seemed to notice this, wrinkling his nose, looking around the room as if he was searching for something.

 

And when it was too late, Harry realized what he was doing. He was looking for someone who _would_ listen. The next victim he chose happened to be, unfortunately, Harry.

 

Nick grinned when his eyes locked with Harry’s. “Don’t you agree, Harry? The team needs better players than the tossers they have now.”

 

Harry was speechless. He knew what Nick was saying was rude, but he didn’t want to say anything back that might piss him off. Making enemies was not on his to-do list and if he could refrain from it, that would be a blessing.

 

But the kid didn’t look like he was going to leave him alone. He pushed on.

 

“Oh, don’t tell me,” he said, smiling jokingly like they were pals, which they were most definitely weren’t. “You actually think they should be on the team?”

 

He said it as if it were some secret joke between him and Harry, like they would bust out in a giggling fit because no one got it except them. It wasn’t funny in the least and the only thing Harry could think was how full of himself this guy was. He was glad when the last bell of the day rang, saving him from answering the asshole. But Harry didn’t want to be anymore rude as Nick had; he was not going to fall down to his level.

 

When he finally left the school, taking big strides down the path that lead to his house, he felt a rush of clarity and relief. Throughout the entire day he had to fight against the rush inside of him, bursting with energy. The moment he was a block away from the school, it died away, along with the pesky burning. He suddenly felt empty. Stopping in his tracks, he frowned at the feeling, wondering why now he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. A freezing chill surged through him, almost knocking the wind out of him. The longing for heat, no matter where it came from, grew.

 

Then there was a pull.

 

The closest thing he could compare it to was the attraction between opposite magnets. A connection was forming between him and something else, urging him to follow its force. He wasn’t going to deny its pleading. Around him the world vanished; there was only him and _it._ There were no thoughts, no fear; it was all serene. When he should be panicking, thrashing to get a hold of himself, he could only feel a sense of welcome. It must have been because he was longing for something, or for someone. To describe it, one would have to experience it and even then, he could not speak of it in words that made sense.

 

Gravity weighed down on him, making his legs feel heavy. It made him angry that he could not move faster, could not get to the source of radiant heat quicker. He thought he might be going insane and might be torn apart from the inside if he did not get there in time.

 

_But where am I going?_ He asked.

 

For so much worry for getting there, he hadn’t even thought about where his feet might be leading him. But somehow, it felt like he should already know. A sense of deja vu washed over him and that was when he realized how familiar this path felt.

 

It felt just like that night, the night that changed everything and yet, nothing at all. The world was the same, but he had been changed. Where he was heading, he had been there before and he was sure this would not be the last time he would visit the place.

 

He should got home; he should not be here. Though he tried to push the feelings away and turn back to he main road, he felt weak and helpless against his own body. The edge of the forest came into view and it wasn’t long until he was being swallowed up by the swaying trees. They were beckoning him into their home as if they had been waiting for him all along. A whisper came from his right and without thinking, he followed it. It wasn’t long until he was nestled into a bush covered in dead leaves.

 

This was his hiding spot. This was where he had been watching him.

 

Surprise was beyond him at that moment, gazing down at the ruins of the abandoned shack. If he felt fear, he didn’t notice it. All he could focus on was _him._

 

The fire in the pit of his stomach began to burn with great intensity. He felt like he was going to burst; the energy was coursing through his veins, getting him high and not letting him come back down. It grew greater and greater until...

 

They locked eyes, his bright blue eyes burning into Harry’s.

 

An explosion of heat burst through him, draining him until he felt sleepy. And sleep is what he did.

 

The fire died down as his vision became dark and it wasn’t until he was lying on the forest floor, caked in dirt and covered in leaves, did he speak his name.

 

“Louis.”

 

<><><> 

 

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why the hell would you bring him _here?_ ”

 

“Do you thinking I wanted this? I don’t even know the little shit head or how he knew I was out there! Don’t go around blaming me for any of this shit.”

 

Anger flowed through Harry; his muscles tightened and an increasing headache took form. Struggling to open his eyes, he was thrown into shock to find himself not in his bedroom, but in a dark room that looked very close to a big storage closet or a shed.

 

“What are we suppose to do with him then, huh?”

 

“He didn’t see anything if that’s what you’re asking. I’m not that stupid.”

 

“Sure does seem like it.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Harry groaned at the yelling, his head pulsing at the loud noise. Though it was small, it startled the men from their yelling. The room fell under a silent spell and it gave him a strange feeling. He concluded he hated the quiet and could not stand for there to be empty space not filled with laughter or talking. Even the previous yelling had been better than the piercing silence.

 

“He’s awake,” someone said. A hand touched his shoulder and he jolted from their grasp. He snapped up from where he had been laying, which looked like a pile of blankets, and took in the three figures standing in the room, deep frowns taking over their features.

 

Louis snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Hey, you still with us?”

 

He wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. For the most part he felt fine except for the raging burn he felt in his chest like someone shot him with a fireball or something. Other than that he felt peachy. Of course he didn’t think getting smart with him would be a good idea, especially since he had his guards with him.

 

Even in his state, he tried opening his mouth, but found that it was too dry and scratchy for any recognizable sound could be formed. Louis noticed this quite quickly.

 

“Zayn, get some water,” he ordered, keeping his eyes on Harry.

 

When ever he looked into those eyes, he felt the burn intensify. The only difference there was from this time from the others was that it didn’t hurt. And what shocked him further was that he _liked_ it. This wave of heart wasn’t something he feared or loathed, it was a feeling he would welcome without thinking, just like he was doing now.

 

Something flashed in Louis’ eyes for a moment. Harry was afraid that if he had looked away from him, just for a second, he would have missed it.

 

“What the...” Louis reached out to touch him, but pulled back with a hiss, clutching his hand as if he had been burned. Harry did the same, wincing as he crawled back away from the man as far as he could, bumping into the far wall of the room.

 

With a curse, the other man stood up, staring at Harry with an unknown expression. Was it fear? Anger? Curiosity? The question flew through his mind, but he couldn’t answer them over the loud thump of his heartbeat. It pulsed through him, in his neck, his ears; the pounding was everywhere and it made him feel dizzy.

 

Liam, now leaving the shadows, rested a hand on Louis’ shoulder, concern on his face. “What is it?”

 

The oldest of them all turned white. He stared down at Harry as if he was the incarnation of the devil himself. Never had he ever felt more ashamed of his body; he felt like the monster he had been running from. He never thought the thing he despised would end up being him all along.

 

He could hear Louis take in a shuddering breath. “He’s...he has it.”

 

“Has what?” Liam asked.

 

Louis looked stricken, struggling for a way to say it. All the while they talked about him, Harry could only watch them. None of it felt real. This had to be a dream or a nightmare; he felt as if he was staring through a glass wall, observing and not participating. Time felt nonexistent; he felt nonexistent.

 

Something dawned on Liam. He turned away from Louis and stared at Harry, who looked more terrified than them.

 

It felt like forever had passed before Louis spoke. “The same thing as us: the flame.”

 

There was a crash from the door way. All three of them jumped, looking over to the entrance only to find Zayn in a state of shock. What had dropped was the bottle of water he was sent to fetch, now laying on the floor, a sharp dent in the plastic.

 

“What?” Harry was at a lost. He felt more angry than scared, the feeling coursing through him. It didn’t feel like something he would feel; he got upset sometimes, but never as angry as this. Energy was flowing into him from some outside source, feeding the anger inside of him. Standing up, he glared at the three men. “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

His actions surprised him. Louis, however, didn’t seem impressed. He, too, looked pissed, probably more so than Harry.

 

“Fuck,” he cursed, a hand pulling at his hair. “Fuck!”

 

His leg shot out, kicking over a box and chair. Liam grabbed him with both hands, restraining him from doing anymore damage. Though he was bigger than Louis, he had a hard time keeping him still.

 

“What has gotten into you?” Louis yanked his arm away, the one Liam had in a vice grip.

 

“We’re connected! I’m fucking connected to this little shit!” Louis pointed an accusing finger at Harry, his voice booming.

 

The rest became silent as Louis lost control, his loud shouting turning into low mechanical laughing. “But what can I do? Huh? He’s gonna get us all caught with all the energy he’s storing up on. I’m surprised he hasn’t blown up something with the way he’s throwing around his emotions.”

 

Harry snarled. “And you haven’t?”

 

Louis stopped laughing. “You little—”

 

He made a lunge for the younger boy, but was stopped by Liam’s strong arms.

 

“Stop it!” Liam pushed him away, backing him up into the corner across the room. While this went on, Zayn was still standing by the door, unsure what to do with himself.

 

“Is that why I’m feeling like I’m going to burn alive? Is it why I’m always in agony when I’m so far away from the forest?” Harry’s voice was void of any anger, it now a soft whisper.

 

Louis turned around, leaning his arms up against the wall. “Yes. It’ll do that when we’re too far apart.” He huffed. “I just don’t understand how this could have happened. Our powers must have bonded without us knowing when you were in the forest. That’s the only way.”

 

Liam laughed. “Well, at least we know why you so pissy the last few days.”

 

“Shut your trap—”

 

“What can we do then?” Harry asked. The others glanced towards Louis who still would not look at them. When he spoke, it was a mumble Harry almost didn’t catch.

 

“There isn’t.”

 

<><><> 

 

He felt like utter shit.

 

Like he promised himself, he did not venture out to the forest or try to follow the pull towards Louis. It had been hard the last day and a half; if he could not make it two days then how did he expect to ignore it the rest of his life? The bond was unbreakable which meant there was no cure to ease the pain inside of him. Well, other than staying by Louis’ side every waking second. That was out of the question, Louis making it clear he would slit his throat if he tried to follow him again.

 

But he felt the agony he was feeling too. They were both in a pit of misery and if the man was not so stubborn then they might, by luck, find an answer to their dying question. It was not going to happen if they were always at each others throat, Louis more so at his. He always wondered how a small man such as him could pact so much anger. Maybe bundling it all up over the years had become a skill for him until their bond forced it all out. Even without being around him, Harry had become a victim to his less happy emotions. They would hit him at the oddest and at most embarrassing moments. One second he would be smiling and the next crying enough to drown himself. Other times he was cool and collected and then going ballistic, punching walls and tossing chairs left and right.

 

It was during Chemistry class that the bond became an issue.

 

Harry and his group had just set up their lab. The class had been instructed to test the temperature of a heated substance, add another substance, and log the temperature change, if there was one. It was simply, even for Harry who had never been good at science. He was sure he and his team would be finished by the end of the hour, working together had never been an issue. Well, until Nick decided to drop in for a chat.

 

The lab tables had four chairs total per table, two on each side. They were built close together that if one were to turn around they could talk to the person behind them at the opposite table. In some cases it was easier to check answers or ask questions about a procedure, but it had become a nuisance.

 

“So, you still think the basketball team doesn’t need help?”

 

Harry didn’t dare glance over his shoulder; he knew who it was, the voice was hard not to remember. “I’m kind of busy.”

 

It hadn’t even been a minute and the heat was bubbling at his surface, his anger building to the maximum. The best thing he could do was ignore the kid, but he was making it quite difficult when he was breathing down his neck.

 

“Don’t you have a team to help?”

 

He got the impression Nick shrugged. “They’re fairing well by themselves. Besides, I think you need help, especially since I’ve noticed a certain someone has been following you around.”

 

Harry almost dropped the beaker he was holding. “What?”

 

“You haven’t noticed then.” This time he did turn to look at him.

 

“No,” he said. “I hadn’t.”

 

Nick smiled, leaning on the back of his chair, scanning his face with delighted eyes. “He’s really creepy. One of those kids that hang out in the forest, doing who knows what. You haven’t been hanging out with them, have you?”

 

He gritted his teeth. “No, I haven’t.”

 

“That’s good,” Nick said, his eyes glinting. “They aren’t normal. I hope they get killed or something while they’re doing the stupid stuff that they do. Wouldn’t be surprised if they did blow up a church or something.”

 

A flame burst from a Bunsen burner. Someone screamed as glass shattered and students ducked as the glass flew through the air, cutting skin and drawing blood.  

 

Harry stood in the middle of the mess, eyes wide and wild. He felt high, like he could touch the sky and never fall. Bliss is what he felt at that moment, the time in which he felt the flame become the strongest it had ever felt. It did not make sense until he saw a familiar figure standing in the shadows, staring through the classroom window. Around him, students scrambled around, asking if the others were alright or looking for the teacher. He was the only one who was not in a state of shock. The glass had cut him on his left cheek, leaving behind a light sting, but he didn’t mind it.

 

Everything had faded away until there was only those bright blue eyes calling for him while at the same time forcing him to stay away. If he could, he would run away from this place, just following the path that would lead him to the other half of him, the one who gave him warmth and surged the flame on. Without _him_ , the flame would burn out.

 

“Harry.” A hand jolted him from his gaze. With all he could muster, he forced his eyes away from the figure.

 

Nick frowned, looking towards the area he had been staring. “Are you alright? What were you looking at?”

 

Harry batted Nick’s arm away. Looking closer, he noticed the glass had cut him fairly deep. If he hadn’t been wearing goggles it would have been dangerously close to blinding him.

 

Harry couldn’t help, but smile.

 

“Nothing.”

 

He was glad when the other boy dropped the subject. The last thing he needed was someone getting nosy and discovering the “dirty little secret” the four boys were hiding. It would only give another reason for Louis to hate him.

 

With a sigh, he turned back to picking up the mess he had created.

 

<><><> 

 

“You’re careless.”

 

“Then I need someone to teach me to control myself.”

 

Harry looked up from his book. Standing before him was Louis, squinting his eyes against the setting sun. Harry was sitting under a large tree, his back leaning against the trunk, and his legs crossed in a lazy manner. The bond had pulled him towards this spot, not taking him further than this point. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for the sound of soft footfalls to fill this side of the forest.

 

He smiled to himself. The forest had become quite a meeting place for the two of them. He did not mind it, in fact, he yearned for it. Just a week ago, he had been scared of the man before him, now he could not get enough of him. It could not have just been the bond that had him aching for his touch or his attention. No, he knows it has to be something more than attraction or the flame burning between them, not that that was a problem.

 

But he wanted more and that scared him a bit.

 

“A teacher? I don’t think that’ll work,” Louis said, taking a step forward, his hands in his pockets. He tilted his head up, eyeing something in the trees. Through the bond, Harry could feel his calmness, but also a feeling of uncertainty. Maybe he wasn’t the only one confused by their developing relationship.

 

There was a beat before he spoke. “I’m learning, but I can’t do it on my own.”

 

“It takes a while.”

 

“What if I hurt someone again?”

 

Louis seemed to think the question over. “You won’t.”

 

“How can you sound so convinced?”

 

He smiled. “I’m not, but there’s no sense in worrying over something you can’t control.”

 

The words struck Harry like a brick. The advice was out of place coming from the blue eyed boy, more so than anything else. Even in his worn jeans, faded shirt, and his matted hair, he could act so brilliantly that it almost made Harry swoon. Though, he would never let him know that. It was a secret he hoped would not flow through the bond as he assumed his emotions could be sensed just as Louis’ could be.

 

And Harry would keep his feelings secret until he died. Or at least until he could not hide them any longer. That time came sooner than he had expected and he had no idea how to react to it. It was thrown upon him at the worst possible moment.

 

“Stop! Okay, set it right there. A little to the left—wait! Yes, right there! Now start putting up the banners!”

 

The gym was a bustling mess, kids running, screaming, and cramming in to get a glimpse of the dance decorations. Harry had unfortunately signed up to help at the beginning of the year, completely forgetting about it until a few days before planning had started. Niall was head of the committee, threatening him into keeping his promise to the school. Of course, he didn’t want to disappoint his only friend or the others giving up their free time to make the dance a blast. However, he felt useless when he was ordered to sit on the bleachers until work came up for him to do.

 

So, there he was, sitting with too much time on his hands. A book would have ended his thinking, which consisted of deep thoughts about a certain someone, and a phone would have occupied him. Too bad he didn’t like reading and his parents didn’t believe he was old enough to take care of such an “expensive” device. So he sat,chin in palm, elbow resting on knee, waiting for his name to be called and his services to be needed.

 

“Harry!” Niall sprinted towards him. His cheeks were flushed red and he looked ready to pass out, but though he looked tired, he was cheery as ever. If anyone was perfect for their job then it was him. Harry agreed with the decision for assigning him president.

 

“We’re done for the day. You can head home if you like. I’ve still got to hang up fliers,” he said, smiling while wiping away sweat.

 

“You don’t need help?”

 

“No, I’ve got it. See you tomorrow!” Niall left him, disappearing with the other students exiting the gym. He was one of the last to leave, fixing some of the stringers before he officially left.

 

All the time in the world, spent helping decorating or worrying over finals, was being sucked out of him. He felt his time spent on such everyday things was being wasted. How could he focus on anything when he knew something terrible was happening inside of him?

 

Louis was always on his mind these days, hanging around and never leaving. It only made things worse when the flame would come back. Niall, a distraction, could not even detour his mind. Days had passed since they met and to Harry, it felt like an eternity. He wished for the ache of distance to go away and never come back, but it was no use to dwell on such things. Like Louis had said, why worry about something when he had no control over it?

 

The burning in his chest just would not going away though. A mystery was what it was. Harry was curious as ever, longing to discover what this hidden secret was. If he could find a way to break the bond then he would be free of the pain and Louis free of him.

 

He frowned. What was so wrong about him that made Louis hate him? It could not only be because what he had seen in the forest; that was ridiculous. But there was nothing else, nothing that hinted towards why the man despised him so. Maybe it was his personality; it meant he had a lousy personality, but he could live with that. If he still wanted him, after the way he had treated him, then surely he would not mind a few character flaws.

 

When the school dance came around, Harry had made up his mind. He wasn’t going to sit back any longer; he was going to take control, as best as he could anyway.

 

His heart pounded against his rib case. Sweat droplets formed above his brow and his cheeks were warm, possibly even bright red. The lights were blinding as they beamed down from a very outdated disco ball that looked like it had been bought from a pawn shop. He thought nothing of it, actually more interested in the water. Three empty bottles at the bottom of the trash can were his and it was barely seven-thirty.

 

Scanning through the sea of teenagers, he searched for a familiar pair of eyes. Coming up empty handed, feeling more alone than ever, he deserted the refreshments, wandering the gym with no set destination. He must have looked like a fool. A few minutes later, he gave up and turned to leave.

 

“Hey.” Harry stopped, just shy of a few feet from the front doors. Nick waved, one hand shoved in his pocket. “I, uh, didn’t know you’d be here.”

 

Frowning, Harry shook his head. “Me neither. Niall dragged me along last minute.”

 

What he really meant was that he wanted to leave. Now.

 

Nick didn’t get the hint. 

 

“He your friend?”

 

“Yeah, if that isn’t too obvious.” It came out a little rude, but if Nick noticed then he did not show it.

 

He shrugged. His eyes locked on something behind Harry and he frowned. “I was actually meaning to ask you about something.”

 

It was Harry’s turn to frown. “Yeah?”

 

“You’ve been hanging around Louis Tomlinson, right? What’s up with that?” He could feel a lump in his throat. The tension in the air, he could feel it. It felt like slime against his skin and he could barely breathe. The flame was building. “I mean-he’s not good for you. They’re a bad crowd and I don’t want you to suffer because of their reputation.”

 

Harry choked out a laugh. “Reputation?”

 

“Yeah,” Nick said, but looked doubtful. “Are you alright? Do you need something to drink?”

 

Nick set a hand on his arm, cold compared to his burning skin. The flame was exploding inside of him and he had no doubt that Louis could feel it through their bond. Where was he? He felt so close to him; there was no way the bond could be this strong if they were far apart. He had to be _here,_ inside of the gym.

 

“I’m fine,” he bit out. It was not close to the truth. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, _burn_ the stupid jerk to ashes because he insulted what was _his._ Power surged through his veins, taking over his mind and his body. There was adrenaline pumping and circulating through his system and he had no control over it. Nothing. He could do nothing about it. Without having to think, he stepped forward; he dared not think about what he was about to do.

 

But he didn’t have to because a firm hand jerked him back before he could take another step or, god forbid, take a swing at the little fucker.

 

“Take it easy, babycakes.” The voice was a whisper in his ear. It cast a spell over him, soothing his anger and tamed the flame. Weight was lifted off of his chest, feeling the warmth of Louis beside him, holding him back from a mistake he almost made.

 

Nick noticed their close contact. “He was fine. He doesn’t need your help.”

 

Harry was surprised when he was ripped from Louis’ tight hold and tugged to Nick’s side. “You shouldn’t even be here, rat.”

 

“Take your hands off of him.” Harry shook from the forceful words. They dripped with dominance, feeding the heat in his chest. He looked to him, locking eyes for a split second, but that was all he needed.

 

Nick snorted, pulling at Harry’s arm. “Come on. He isn’t worth anything.”

 

He pushed him back, causing him to trip over his feet. “Fuck off.”

 

Confusion flashed over Nick’s face. He stumbled back, looking from Harry to Louis and then back to Harry. Then his eyes settled on Louis and pure anger swelled up in his eyes. His lips pulled back into a snarl, flashing his teeth.

 

He lunged forward. His hands wrapped around Louis’ neck and tightened. The two flew back from the force, sliding across the gym floor as a circle of kids formed around them. Harry, not expecting a brawl to break out, stood on the sidelines, his mind screaming for him to do something.

 

Nick’s arm sprang back. His fist came cashing down, crushing into Louis’ jaw. The back of his head smacked against the gym floor. He retaliated though, punching back. His feet kicked out, knocking the wind out of Nick as they connected with his stomach. Every kick and every punch, Harry could feel the pain sky rocketing through, ignoring his pleas for it all to stop.

 

He clutched his head with his hands and screamed out, “Stop!”

 

But the two boys ignored him, tumbling, punching and kicking at each other, bruising their skin. He was angry, wreathing in pain and he could do nothing about it. He promised he would never feel weak against; the promise was already broken.

 

His thoughts were fleeting. By the time he pulled himself together, Nick and Louis were being escorted from the dance.

 

<><><> 

 

The forest was quite except for the rustling of leaves. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his heart beating in his ears. The sound had become a silent reminder of the one thing he longed for. A body, a heat that would complete him. He stretched out his hand in front of his face, staring intently at his open palm. A small fire seeped through his skin like ooze until it could stand on its own. This was what they had meant. Louis, Liam, and Zayn. They had all possessed this power; none of them knowing why they had been cursed with such a gift.

 

And the bond had bound him and Louis.

 

Their souls were marked with pain and longing, Harry knew that. They would never be able to escape this treacherous fever. Sweat and blood would never satisfy the heat or the flame between the two of them. It beat along side their hearts and would never die out until the beating stopped.

 

When he had realized that death would be the only answer, he knew it had to be a curse. This was not love and this was not affection. This was not a blessing or a gift in disguise. Only a fool would ever believe such lies, but here he was. Dreaming of companionship with a man who could not even stand to look at him much less _touch_ him.

 

Harry frowned. That was all he wanted. To be held, caressed and loved. Why was it so hard to find such things in life? Find someone who wanted him?

 

Distracted from his surroundings, he failed to hear the rustling of feet behind him. A hand shot out, cupping over his mouth. When he tried to open his mouth to scream he was tossed back, his head slamming into the trunk of a nearby tree. Dizziness took over him, his head fuzzy, barely being able to hold himself up right.

 

Someone lifted him, holding him by his waist. They laughed when he tried to push them away. He almost cried. He _knew_ that laugh.

 

The laugh got louder and the they said, “Fooled me, did you? Thought I would be stupid enough to think I would not figure it out? I should have known you were just like them.”

 

Hatred. It boiled in those words. The words that were aimed at _him._

 

Nick yanked his head back by his curly hair. He pouted, his breath against his lips. “So, pretty, Harry. You don’t need them. I can be all that you need.”

 

Contact. The need for someone to want him. Nick wanted him and that’s what he wanted, right?

 

He must have seen the conflict in his eyes, the way he was battling with himself. A hand brushed over his cheek, the thumb dipping in between his lips.

 

He looked him straight in the eye.

 

“This is what you want? Someone to hold you?” he asked. His lips drew nearer, grazing over his, a whisper against his hot skin. Harry’s stomach fluttered and clenched.

 

It felt wrong.

 

There was no pull and there was no _need._ He felt repulsed by his cold skin and wanted to push him away. Nothing about him could compare to what he could not have. What he wished for was more than anything Nick had to offer. Somehow, he had trapped himself into a turmoil of rage and conflicted emotions. _This_ was not him!

 

Lips crashed into his, teeth clanking and a tongue prodding against his tightly shut lips. He struggled to breathe or be released; it all seemed useless in his state, a few seconds from crashing down.

 

“Still cocky as ever the little shit.” Nick was yanked roughly back by the collar of his jacket. He was sent flying to the ground and could not react fast enough to dodge the black boot smashing down onto his face. A crack sounded off in the forest, followed by a bloody scream.

 

Nick rolled on the forest flooring clutching his broken nose dripping in blood. The crimson red was smeared across his face and he yelled in fury. With shaking hands he reached into his pocket. Silver slashed through the air, its target Louis.

 

The blade sliced across his exposed skin, another shot hitting him below his shoulder. He jumped back as Nick unleashed another attack, aiming to stab him. Harry, unsure what to do, struggled to walk around them.

 

“Stay back, Harry!”

 

“Don’t tell him what to do! He’s not yours!” Nick swiped again, but Louis knocked the blade from his shaking hands. Defenseless, he turned to another plan and rushed forward to tackle the other boy. They tumbled, both locking arms around each other, trying to get the upper hand.

 

Louis smacked his palm up onto Nick’s broken nose. The boy released a strangled cry. He rushed forward on his hands and knees, searching through the leaves and dirt for the silver blade.

 

_Do something!_ Harry’s mind screamed at him. _Stop them!_

His eyes were blinded by fury. The flame took over him, erupting in his chest, surging through his veins. It felt familiar to all the other times, like a bad burn. Only the difference this time was that the flame was being fed. The bond was in full affect. All around him his senses had changed, his environment shifted to a new dimension. It was all centered around Louis.

 

He could hear his thoughts, feel his fear, and could see through his eyes. The eyes that gazed widely as a sharp blade penetrated his chest, heading to his heart.

 

A breath was held. Time stopped as Harry’s ears rung.

 

_Steady_ , the flame said. _Steady._

Time sped up at an alarming rate. Rain poured down on them out of no where. Except it wasn’t rain. It wasn’t snow and it wasn’t leaves.

 

Ash. It was _ash._

 

A loud thump pulled him out of his daze.

 

Nick had fallen back, holding the knife. His eyes flickered around what was left of the forest, trembling at the burning flames around him. And before he ran away he whispered, “Monster.”

 

<><><> 

 

The shed was quiet like it always was. It was now more scraps of wood than an actual structure, but it held fond memories and so Harry never tore it down. His long fingers grazed over the rough texture, his eyes closing on their own. The smell of the burnt wood drifted him off to the first night he had ventured out into these woods. He met a man, with blue eyes, and the power to control fire. It was a curse, one that he himself possessed. Neither of them knew why they had it.

 

“Admiring my work?” Harry smiled at the voice, opening his eyes.

 

Louis stood close to him, gazing up at him with fond eyes. His arms wrapped around Harry’s neck.

 

“What else would I be doing?” With a frown, Louis poked one of Harry’s dimples.

 

“Don’t be cheeky,” he said.

 

Instead of replying, Harry stole a kiss from the boy’s lips. Heat coated his body like a soft blanket. Louis returned the kiss, pulling them closer until their body’s were flushed together.

 

In that moment, Harry felt everything he had been missing: loved, cared for, and _wanted._

All the things a monster would ever need.

**Author's Note:**

> wattpad: ijakegirl


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